


this is me trying

by j_whirl44



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, get in here y'all it's loving Sasha hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_whirl44/pseuds/j_whirl44
Summary: She's not scared but something feels off.
Relationships: Brock & Sasha Racket
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	this is me trying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrinkitTheCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinkitTheCat/gifts).



Sasha is twelve and she doesn't know where Brock is. They said they'd meet where they always do; behind the dumpsters of their favorite bakery, where sometimes the nice owner will leave a wrapped bag of leftovers out by the door. There's some tonight but she doesn't want to eat any until he gets here.

She's not scared but something feels off. He'd say something to her before now if he wasn't going to make it. She sits on the rooftop next door and watches the Other Londoners walk by as they enjoy their nights on the town. As much as anyone from Other London could enjoy anything. Sasha never sees Brock and after a week she goes to Barret about it; because now she might be a little scared.

"Don't worry, darling," he says in that always sickly sweet tone, "he's fine somewhere far away. He is happy." He dismisses her without another word.

Sasha's twelve and alone in the world.

She gets sent to a school she doesn’t want to be in with an instructor she doesn’t want to see. She’s taught many things but she refuses it all. She picks up dagger tricks. She’s quite good at it. She flicks the blade between her fingers when she’s nervous. She hits her first bullseye within a week of learning how to throw them and just doesn’t look back.

She leaves. Hides away in Upper London. Meets a shop owner that’s kind and takes her in. He’s good to her and she’s good to him. They find her. A gruff man with a trident keeps her safe. She joins him on a simple job to stake out a simple party. It’s filled with the rich people she was taught to hate. Filled with the stench of selfishness and arrogance. Her skin crawls; she clings to her daggers.

She meets Brock again. She hears his voice over the others. He reaches out to her over the sounds of machinery. Years of secret hate she unwillingly harbored for him turns to pity before she says a real goodbye. She feels sad and confused.

This isn't her first loss and it won't be her last and she knows that. As they flee Paris she looks to Zolf, her boss, and Hamid, her friend, and Bertie, her...colleague. She wonders when she'll have to say goodbye to them too.

The airship to Prague is when she realizes how much of her life before this wasn’t up to her. She’s never had agency until now. Choices were made for her and she couldn’t go against them. Any emotions she tried to show were shut down and reprimanded. So she finally makes a choice. She’s going to teach herself how to live. little by little day by day she’s going to try and put herself and the people she cares about first. It’s ironic, that she makes this choice when she’s dying, but in the dark of her small quarters thousands of miles into the sky, she can’t help but smile. For once she’s a little bit excited about what comes next.

Except what comes next is she says goodbye to another friend. It’s hard but she lets him go because she knows what it’s like to feel trapped. Her first test and she thinks she’s passed.

Then she meets two more friends. A gentle orc and a vibrating goblin. Meets a stoic dragon. Gets saved. She even gets her finger back. It’s all a second chance at life. To put all the things she’s taught herself to task.

She confronts her oldest demon, the man who’s cast the biggest cloud over her since leaving Other London. She almost kills him. A rage she hasn’t felt in a long time bubbles up when she sees him again, but she doesn’t. She takes a step back and stands tall as she tells him he’s nothing; not important. Not to her. Not to anyone. She leaves him behind. Alone on the floor.

She goes to Rome.

She doesn’t come back.

She loses the chance to say goodbye to two friends. Three friends. At least she gets to hold one and thank him as he lay limp and bloody and unresponsive. The spears were for her. There’s a hole in her chest, or at least she thinks there should be.

She stands up. She pushes on. Makes more friends than she’s ever dreamed she could or even wanted. She gets a third chance at life; that thought is not lost on her.

She changes her name. Makes a family. 

Raises a family. Two families. Three families. Teaches them how to care; how to love. Makes sure they know family doesn’t just mean blood.

She starts a resistance of sorts. She doesn’t really mean to, but she thinks maybe it’s just in her nature to help. She uses the skills she was forced to learn for harm and turns them into something good. Something greater than herself.

Late in her life she hugs tight and hugs often. It reminds her of a friend from a lost time. She travels to a temple each year and lights one candle. Two candles. Three candles.

When her face is old enough to form wrinkles it’s the laughter lines that are most prominent. The crow’s feet by her eyes from years of wide face stretching smiles.

Sasha loves because she’s lost and it took all three of her lifetimes to learn the balance between the two. She lives on in her kids and in her friends. A girl taught to hide in the shadows became a pillar of hope for generations to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Happiest of birthdays to you Sam <3
> 
> (this is why i ominously messaged you about what you love most about Sasha last week if that wasn't obvious enough lmao)
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
